Shattered, but Not Broken
by Lightningfall
Summary: It was cold. That's all she knew, the cold. Cold and pain, her two biggest enemies, and her two only friends. Chained and shackled, doomed to a fate of terrible proportions... Until he came.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

It was cold. That's all she knew, the cold. Cold and pain, her two biggest enemies, and her two only friends. The chains on her wrists rattled, the shackles on her ankles dragged against the floor as she strained on her toes to hear something, anything, outside. The freezing radiated through the concrete walls, stained with bloody handprints and splatters from her early years.

"Alexandria!" The unfortunately familiar voice announced. She ran from the wall to her 'bed', sitting on the stained cushion. The only soft thing besides her robe, the bed cushion was made of cheap linen and only an inch thick. As she sat straight, the door to the cell-like room opened, shining bright white light on Alex's milky-pale skin and tangled red-brown hair. She squinted, her blue-gray irises contracting her pupil to a pinpoint at the unwelcome brightness.

"Yes, Herr Doktor?" The twenty year old asked, her arms shaking. The doctor stepped in with two others, the tall man tapping his clipboard with a scowl. He motioned to the other two, speaking a flurry of German. They stepped toward her, grabbing her wrists and unlocking the chains. The same thing happened to her ankles, freeing her from the chaffing of the too-tight cuffs.

"Ya, Miss Alex. You will be coming to lunch with Herr Doktor Metzger." The taller man spoke in a heavy German accent, and Alex shuddered at the name. She knew who he was, the Head Doctor of the hellhole she existed in. She stood, angling her head down. The mess of hair atop her head had been choppily cut with a scalpel, and the lab robe was too small to cover her entire body. Many cuts and scars showed from the various procedures that were preformed on her at least twice a week. One of the assistants shoved her forward, and she stumbled, her bony legs tangling before she caught herself.

"Come with me." The doctor ordered. Alex followed him around the unfamiliar halls, other doctors and lab technicians staring at the second doctor and the experiment. She was put in a room and dressed by the men. A pair of underwear and a bra, and then just a new lab robe that fit over that. The thin linen was fastened by a cloth belt and nothing more. It hung down the majority of her arms and legs, warming her, at least slightly.

Doctor Sakrisch Metzger rapped at the door and one of the assistants hissed at her to stand straight. She did, as best she could, and then the Head Doctor came in. He was average height, muscular, and blonde. Piercing blue eyes stared at her, looked her up and down. He paced in a circle around her, prodding her shoulder or leg every once in a while. After a short time, he seemed satisfied with her condition, and she was led to a different room beside the first. It was furnished with one metal chair and one cushioned one, a table between them. Alex was sat in the metal chair, shackled to the floor, and restrained by chains. Metzger settled into the soft chair, looking very smug. There were two platters on the table, both covered. Both sat in the middle of the table. Metzger motioned to Alex.

"Pick one." His accent was more American, with only a hint of his German blood. Alex, taken by surprise, looked up, directly at those intense blue eyes. Catching herself, she looked back down at the table and shook her head. It was a test, she was sure. If she chose wrong, they would come in, their electric rods ready to add new burns to her collection…

"Please, Alexandria, choose. It is not a trap, I promise." Metzger said in a gentle tone. The thin woman looked up again carefully, only to see those eyes staring her down like a wolf watching its prey. She reached a bony hand forward tentatively towards the right side platter, pulling it towards herself. A twitch of a smile flickered across the doctor's face as he pulled the remaining platter to his side of the table. He uncovered the plate, revealing a steak, mashed potatoes, and assorted vegetables. The steam was visible, and the smell was enough to have the starved young adult's mouth watering.

Alex uncovered her platter to reveal a barren silver plate, shining in the pure light from the ceiling. She could not help the tears that threatened her eyes as she glanced hungrily at the platter across from hers. Metzger smirked in a sadistic half-smile, revealing perfect white teeth and abnormally sharp canines. He cut a piece of his steak off and waved it in the air in front of Alex, causing the welling tears to spill silently. The doctor in front of her chuckled and ate his meal slowly, moving to offer her a piece every so often, but then just as soon refusing it. It was this psychological torture that convinced her.

After an hour of sitting silently with Metzger, watching him eat, Alex was returned to her cell, chained to the floor, and left to freeze. During the night, however, she did not sleep. She used whatever mental knowledge she had of the halls, doors, and guard rotation to plot an attempt at escaping. If she was caught, she knew they would kill her, or worse, strap her to a table and let Metzger have at her with whatever medical tools they had at their disposal. But, to Alex, this was just more of an incentive. She listened carefully through the cell door, watched the shadows creep past. And she formulated a plan.

Four mornings later, they unchained her to take her to the operating room, to inject new forms of nutrients that kept her alive. The door opened, and since she had shown such good conduct in the twenty years she was captive, she was allowed to walk the halls without being chained to her captors. They walked down one corridor, through another. Then she saw it. The only door left cracked for ventilation. She glanced at the escorts' feet, gauging her options. A few moments later, she darted through the gap left open between two of them using whatever strength she could muster. Her lab robe flapping at her heels, she struggled for half a moment to push the door through the snow buildup, but she finally managed to move it enough to slip through. One good thing about being malnourished, she thought. Shouts of detached German reached her, but she ran. The snow crystals stung her feet, but she ran. The cold bit through her robe, and yet she still ran. Stumbling on a particularly hard clump of snow, she tumbled down the side of the mountain for a good three hundred feet before crashing into a tree. There was an audible snapping noise in her right leg, and she looked down to see it bent at a wrong angle.

Gritting her teeth, she saw Germans coming after her, also stumbling in the snow slightly. She forced herself up- she'd endured worse than this, she'd had to walk on a shattered foot before- and continued running. Every step, she felt the bones of her thigh grinding against each other. Every step sent numbing pain through her leg. She continued running, not looking back, not stopping, until she had to stop to catch her breath and set her leg. She glanced behind her to see silhouettes with flashlights and cursed quietly. Reaching down, she examined her leg, feeling the split bone, and then maneuvered it into its correct place. She held in a scream just long enough to bury her face in the snow and muffle the sound, then got up.

"Keep running. Don't s-stop…" She shuddered. Her feet were numb, her toes turning blue. She saw a steep decline and threw herself down it, rolling through snow and ice to put even more distance between her and the hellhole in the mountain. She eventually came to a stop, between trees this time, and lay there shivering for at least a minute. She glanced up to see nothing but darkness and trees, and forced herself upright. The only thing that kept her going now was the singular thought of _escape_. She estimated at least another two thousand feet between her and the facility with that roll, and kept walking.

Every step slower than the last, she walked. Her feet turning purple, she walked. Her eyelashes and choppy hair freezing solid with snow buildup from the new falling flakes, she walked. _Fall faster_, she thought. _Bury my tracks_. Slower and slower, she walked. Finally, the cold overcame her shuddering body, and she collapsed. Her last feeling was that of cold, and pain as she hit the back of her head on a rock. Her last sight was that of a tall man, maybe an angel, she thought.

_Take me home, Angel… _

_Please, take me home…_

And time was no more.


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

She heard crackling. _Where am I?_ She thought. Adding to the sound, shuffling feet and clothes were heard, and she opened her eyes cautiously. She saw a fire, and then she saw a man beside the fire in a dark blue hoodie and cargo pants, and a backpack. She shakily sat upright, noticing that she was under a blanket and that her hands and feet were bound loosely in heavy cloth. The man turned to her, his dark blue eyes shining in the fire.

"Wh-Who are you?" She asked shakily, pushing herself back, dragging her legs across the cold cave floor. _Cold… _She thought. The man stood up, his shoulder-length brown hair falling out of his face. Then she thought a moment.

"Who am _I_?" She asked him, wide-eyed with panic. She couldn't remember a thing. Disjointed images flashed through her mind, scalpels, steak she couldn't eat, bloody walls, snow… then it was gone.

"What happened? _Who am I?!_" She asked again, her voice getting louder as she frantically tried to stand. In a moment, however, the man was there, pushing her back to the floor.

"I don't know who you are. You were passed out in the snow with blood surrounding your head and frostbite all over you. Your leg seems to be broken, stay off of it." His voice was gruff, and his tone was flat and not very friendly. She looked around wildly, finally focusing on the taller man in front of her.

"I… I can't remember myself…" She said quietly, fear replacing her panic. The man shook his head and turned away, walking to the backpack. He pulled out two small mirrors and stepped back to the woman.

"Look. I found this on the back of your neck. It may help you recall." He held one mirror behind her, the other off to the side. His closeness terrified her for some unknown reason. As she focused on the reflection, however, she saw a name, printed in blue ink, across the back of her neck.

"Alexandria Kay Curtiss… Is that my name?" She asked, still afraid, but not of this man…of herself. He put the mirrors back in the bag and sat across from her, the fire between them.

"It sounds like it. The place I found you was near a research facility. You may have been trapped there." He responded in a deadpan voice. She nodded, fear still present in her eyes.

"What about you? How do I know you're not going to hurt me?" She asked again, causing him to sigh in exasperation.

"If I'd wanted to hurt you, I would've left you in the snow and wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of building a fire and keeping you alive." He snapped cynically, picking up a stick and holding it over the crackling flames. Alex- she remembered the name now, at least- felt her stomach claw in furious hunger at her insides, and she stared hungrily at the slab of food on the end of the rod. It brought back a disjointed image, one of a table and steak, and a faceless man taunting her. In another instant, the image was gone. The man across from her- she wouldn't call him a _friend_, but he certainly hadn't hurt her yet- rolled his eyes and motioned her to scoot closer to the fire. As she did, he pulled out a knife and cut off a small piece of the meat. Impaling it on another stick, he reached towards her over the fire with his left arm, the end without the food facing her. She reached for it, her arm also over the fire. As she took the food from him, she singed the edge of her white robe. Yelping at the heat, she stared at him hard for a moment. _How did that heat not bother him?_ She asked herself before holding the stick in the flames, attempting to mimic what he was doing. As he rolled the stick back and forth, so did she. As he finally pulled it back from the fire, he nodded to her.

"Be careful. It's very hot, you might burn yourself." He warned, just before taking a bite himself. She glanced at the copious amounts of steam coming from the meat before poking it with a tentative finger. Only then did she notice how thin and bony she was, and it scared her. Even so, she took a careful bite of the food. Her eyes widened at the flavor, having never tasted real food before (Though she did not remember that), the newness of it surprised her. Hastily swallowing (She did, however, remember how hungry she was), she took another large bite. The man reached over again and held her food-laden hands down for a moment.

"Slowly, you'll choke." He said with an impassive frown. She gave him a pitiful look, which he replied to with a pointed stare at her showing bones. She followed his gaze and sighed in resignation, her shoulders falling. As she forced herself to slow down, she again wondered why the heat didn't affect him.

They finished their meal, Alex's small cube of meat filling her stomach. She watched the man across from her with new curiosity; now that she was full, she was tired, and her drowsiness wiped her fear and caution off the slate.

"So what about you, who are you?" She asked. He made a strange face, and turned away. Shaking his head, he sighed, the noise grating in his throat.

"I don't quite know. I suffer amnesia, just as you appear to, and I remember few things. You can call me James, however, since you're staying with me." He responded softly, emotion finally breaking through his mask. She frowned.

"Well, James, why am I staying with you?" She made a face, trying to mimic his. The effect of the food on her system was almost like alcohol, this being the first time she'd ever truly eaten. He gave her a frown of mild bewilderment, having never witnessed someone being drunk… on food.

"Because you can't go off by yourself." He responded with a slightly baffled look. She made a face of her own and huffed.

"Go to sleep. You need to rest; we're going somewhere in the morning." James raised an eyebrow before damping the fire to a heap of warm coals and sitting against the cold wall. He closed his eyes, his breathing becoming more regular, but Alex could tell he wasn't asleep. She herself was getting drowsier, however, and she lay her head down to sleep. As she drifted off, more images flashing through her mind, her dreams reflected them.

That morning, she heard muffled swearing. Opening her eyes slightly, she saw the man- James, was his name, she thought- shouldering his backpack. She woke completely, yawning. Pushing herself upright, she frowned.

"What are you doing?" She asked, attempting to stand once more. He glanced back at her, and then walked to her side. She leaned heavily against the wall, keeping the majority of her weight off of her injured leg. The taller man suddenly leaned over her and picked her up. He shifted her weight around in his arms and began trudging through the deep snow outside. She struggled for a moment but stopped when she realized that it was futile. She settled for staring at her changing surroundings as James picked up the pace, running through the soft powder.

"How can you run through this deep snow and carry me at the same time?" She asked; her voice muffled through the blanket he had thrown over her, from her toes to her nose. Raising an eyebrow, he responded with a cynical tone.

"Because I'm magic." She made a face and glared at him.

"Oh, come on. It's not like I'll tell anyone. I get the feeling you have an interesting story, and maybe it connects to mine." She said with a slightly pleading tone. He groaned and rolled his eyes, still running.

"Fine, but only if you promise to hush while I speak. Also, if you tell a soul about what I say to you, I will not hesitate to kill you while you sleep." She nodded, slightly taken aback. With a heavy sigh, he ran through what he could remember of his life. _Here we go_, he thought. And though he didn't realize it, relief coursed through him as he realized that he actually _wanted_ to tell someone his story.

"Alright, hush. The first thing I remember was joining the army…" He started. He ran through the cold powder as he spoke, telling a tale of war and capture. As he concluded by telling Alex that he survived plummeting from a train, she spoke up.

"But… World War Two was like, seventy years ago, how are you still like this?" She asked, confused.

"Someone found me half-dead, much like you, and put me in a cryogenic chamber, to see if it would preserve me long enough for the next generations, to see if they could thaw me." He said, not mentioning that it was this fact that compelled him to save her life, and not mentioning the exact reason they preserved him.

"Oh." She replied simply. A thoughtful look on her face, she asked, "Did you ever meet Captain America?" His step faltered a moment.

"…Yes. We fought in the same group." He said quietly. Regaining his rhythm, he kept running, although at a slightly slower pace. Alex frowned.

"James." She said. He looked down at her for a second before returning to scanning their surroundings.

"Yes?" Came the reply after a few moments.

"What's your name, the one that everyone calls you? I know it isn't James. That's just… not you, judging from your story." She asked. He glared at the pureness of the new snow, contrasting greatly with his dark hair and clothes, like a discoloration on the face of the Earth.

"My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but people call me Bucky."

* * *

_**A/N**_

_Ahh, you guys! Thanks for all your support! I must warn you, however, that in later chapters there WILL be graphic violence and language. If you notice anything wrong with the canon characters, please tell me! I greatly appreciate it :D_

_Until the heavens and the Earth collide,_  
_And all we know is lost,_

_~Lightningfall_


End file.
